


Devotion

by GingerEl



Series: Ink and Feather [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Found Family, Galahd (Final Fantasy XV), Galahdian Culture (Final Fantasy XV), Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum, Minor Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Non-Traditional Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-23 18:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30059667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerEl/pseuds/GingerEl
Summary: Nyx doesn’t do anything small.Not his friendships, not his job, not the way he looks after his family and pushes on and on and on for what he wants.Fighting against those ‘friends’ to protect the thing they should be loyal to wasn’t any different.And neither is falling in love.Ignis shifts a little in his sleep, nose nuzzling against the short hair decorating his jaw and Nyx dare not move, not even to breath deeply, in case it disturbs him. Not because Ignis would be upset if Nyx accidentally woke him but because he’d realise the vulnerable position he’d found himself in and move away again.“Sorry to be a bother,” Ignis would say and as charming as Nyx knows he is he wouldn’t be able to find the right words just to tell Ignis how not true that is.Alternatively: Nyx moved to Insomnia because there was nothing left for him in Galahd. In Insomnia he finds Ignis. In Insomnia he finds everything.
Relationships: Crowe Altius & Nyx Ulric, Gladiolus Amicitia & Nyx Ulric, Ignis Scientia/Nyx Ulric, Libertus Ostium & Nyx Ulric
Series: Ink and Feather [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661995
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	Devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Railyard_Ghosts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Railyard_Ghosts/gifts).



> For my beloved GG on their birthday. You didn’t really think I wouldn’t tell you what happened with IgNyx after that proposal did you? Thank you for always supporting me and being the IgNyx sounding board I never knew I needed but definitely did 💜💛
> 
> This is not a complete retelling of Unexpected like Exposure was for Saturation. I don’t think it needs it. This will however touch on some parts of that I thought were important and I wanted to tell. Unlike the other parts of this is really relies on the knowledge of former ones. To understand this you'll need to have read Unexpected.

It rains for their funeral.

Anyone but Nyx would be upset but to him it’s perfect.

He’d always loved the rain and he’d inherited that love from his mother. There’s no better sound to accompany her being lowered into the ground beside her daughter than the fat droplets of a proper Galahdian storm falling against the wide leaves of the trees nearest their graves. His father’s grave sits next to them, headstone tall and simple as it had been the day Nyx had helped his mother pick it out.

The water falls heavily onto him, soaking through his layers as an island elder speak the words Nyx can’t bring himself to form. His tears are hot but last only briefly on his cheeks before being washed away by the torrent falling from the sky.

All of a sudden the rain stops hitting him, instead the sound of it is _loud_ and close, bouncing off nylon held over his head.

“They were the best of people,” Libertus says. _He’s_ dry but he steps right up close to Nyx’s side, the arm not holding the umbrella over his head wrapping over his lower back without a care in the world that the soddenness of Nyx’s clothes must surely be seeping into his own.

Nyx sniffs and blinks, managing to say, “You came.”

“As fast as we could,” Libertus says.

A hand presses into his on the other side, smaller and softer than his own; Crowe linking their fingers together and gripping his bicep with her other hand, turned in close to his side.

“Nothing could have kept us away,” Crowe says, “We’re family.”

-

The house is his now, whether he wants it or not, passed from his father to him in a traditional form of family honour. Nyx hasn’t lived in it for _years_ , he’d already been away from home when his father had first departed this world, living with Libertus in a run down little house that’s used for every generation of older teens to get their first sense of independence before they settle down or move on.

 _Libertus_ had moved on first, his family inheritance passing to an older brother who had married and sired offspring of his own younger than Nyx could ever have imagined. Crowe went not long after, desperate for adventure and _change_ with a friend a whole continent and a half away to provide her with a safe place to find it.

Nyx hadn’t planned on moving back into this house for a long time yet, decades at least and maybe not ever if Selena had need for it.

“What will you do?” Libertus asks as Crowe stirs whiskey and spices into fresh brewed coffee.

“I don’t know,” Nyx admits.

“You always have a place with us,” Crowe says, “Should you ever want it.”

Nyx is still in his mourning clothes when he packs everything he can manage into one travel back, locks up his family home and leaves a copy of the key with a neighbour for safe keeping.

Lib and Crowe’s apartment is barely big enough for two but it feels immediately like home the moment one of them kicks him in the shins to make space in the spare bed and is the only place he belongs the first time he gets into a fight with Crowe over how much paprika to add into the soup.

\- - -

The Kingsglaive aren’t recruiting but Libertus pulls in a favour and Nyx is attending the physical exam for becoming a _Crownsguard_ recruit with in two weeks of him landing in Insomnia. He’d considered taking a job at a bar - there’s a Galahdian owned place not far from their apartment hiring - but Nyx would rather not if he can avoid it. By the time his paperwork is all signed to let him work Lib’s come through with this opportunity and Nyx knows he'd be stupid not to take it.

He and Libertus had learnt to fight together, scrapping hand to hand first and later their fathers had given them weapons and taught them how to use those too. Nyx had never been in a position that he _needed_ to hunt his own food and live off the land but he _could_ and Libertus assures him that will be enough to get him in the door with the military, to give him a leg up on the sheltered Insomnians that had already forgotten what it was like to be at war even though two decades haven’t even passed since they were last in one that shook the entire world.

It easy.

Easier than it should be maybe and Nyx actually pulls back throughout the day, not wanting to look like he’s showing off – at least not this first day anyway. A lot of the people trying out beside him are little more than kids fresh out of high school and perhaps looking for nothing than an alternative to college.

But for some reason when the list is posted at the end of the day with names expected back tomorrow for induction Nyx’s isn’t on it.

Nyx is frowning when he turns away from it and almost comes nose to nose Cor Leonis.

“Do you normally apply for jobs by only putting in half effort?”

It takes Nyx a moment to recover from his shock but when he does he can only say, “No.”

Leonis' eyes narrow _just_ a fraction and he glances away before boring into Nyx again.

“Be here tomorrow at 6am and we’ll try this again.”

-

Leonis kicks his ass.

He kicks his ass, helps him to his feet and then kicks it again.

The nicest thing he does all day is let Nyx take a piss break and remind him to drink water.

But Nyx gets up each time and fights back, does the exercises as Leonis tells him to and doesn’t hold even an _ounce_ of effort or talent back this time.

At around two o’clock the door to the smaller gym they’re working in pushes open and a tall guy - big and broad with long hair and shaved sides - enters first followed by a younger kid with dark hair, swinging forward on his crutches. The kid frowns at him, eyes darting from Nyx to Leonis and back again.

“Highness,” Leonis says, “Gladio, can I help?”

Nyx suddenly realises he’s in the same room as the Prince of Lucis.

Noctis, as Nyx knows he’s called, doesn’t say anything at all, just looks kind of sad and hunches over himself like he hopes no one will notice he’s there. Nyx wonders if he’s supposed to get up and bow but he's _already_ on his knees and it feels as though it would be redundant.

“Noct wanted to go out for a bit, but I haven’t been issued a car yet and Ignis is busy. You’re on the roster as being free but that's obviously not true,” the tall one says.

“No,” Leonis says, “I can be done here.”

“Sir?” Nyx says.

“You start tomorrow,” Leonis says to him, “Be here for seven and report to Drautos, he’s Captain of the Kingsglaive. He’ll be _your_ Captain.”

“Sir,” Nyx says again, “I was told there was no space in the Kingsglaive.”

Leonis looks at him flatly, “We’ll make room.”

\- - -

The tall one’s name turns out to be Gladio and he can hold a pint _almost_ as well as any Galahdian Nyx has ever met. He’s the prince’s shield with a laundry list of expectations of his own but he’s also _chill_ and Nyx never once hears him say anything about where anyone is from or who’s the son of who. Gladio never even asks where _he’s_ from and maybe it’s obvious but plenty of other people _have_ asked, almost pointedly so that it almost seems just as pointed not to.

Either way. Nyx thought Insomnia would be fine because he’d have Libertus and Crowe at least, finding anyone else is an unexpected a bonus.

\- - -

Nyx finishes his training in about a month.

It’s not the fastest on record but its up there and every superior in the Citadel tells him how good he’s doing when they write up his reports and reviews. Nyx _knew_ he was doing good without being told, but he won’t deny that it’s nice to _hear_.

At first jobs are just _guard this door_ and _stand on this street corner while the prince eats burgers with his friends_. Nyx imagines his job would be more difficult if the prince was more mobile - _Gods_ does he _try_ though - or they were actually involved in anything close to resembling a war.

It’s a nice existence though. He’s with the only people left in the world he considers family and he’s happy and safe with a roof over his head and food to eat.

There are pretty girls and boys too, never a shortage of them willing to be flirted with and as many as he could ever want willing to temporarily share a bed with him. No one's special enough for him to consider giving his heart over to, not yet, but he finds a solidarity in that with Gladio who _can’t_ find anyone special enough to consider giving his heart over to.

Nyx has nothing to complain about.

\- - -

The Crownsguard are formidable.

Nyx is much happier where he ended up but on the occasion his guard posting is in the outside field as an extra pair of eyes while Crownsguard run laps and obstacle courses he’s happy to note that the people trained and training to protect the Citizens of Lucis, on the whole, are more than capable of doing so.

One morning someone _new_ arrives.

But they’re not _new_ to anything but his eyes because the sweatshirt he’s wearing is only available to Crownsguard at the end of their training, all decked out with ticks and passes in their record, weapons delivered and uniforms measured up.

He _runs_ beautifully and Nyx watches him from across field, long legs and even stride, the determined and impressive set of his shoulders visible from twenty metres. Gladio appears at his side just as the _enticing_ form runs around the curve of the track closest to him, pushing a chilled energy drink into Nyx’s hand.

“Oh hey,” Gladio says offhandedly, “Iggy decided to come along after all.”

 _Iggy_.

Ignis Scientia.

Nyx has seen him of course, usually a few feet behind the Prince’s shoulder but normally he’s straight backed in his pressed suits with his hair pushed up in an almost aggressively severe hairstyle. Nyx had always thought he was handsome in the way he acknowledges any pretty person is pretty but the difference between Ignis Scientia Adviser to His Royal Highness and the man sprinting around the track is _significant_.

There’s no glasses - though Nyx thinks he might prefer if they _were_ there - but his hair is soft, down over his forehead and stirring with each stride and the gentle breeze.

“Alright,” Gladio says with a laugh, “Put your eyes back in your head. You don’t stand a chance.”

\- - -

“Help me stand a chance,” Nyx slurs, leaning heavily against Gladio’s side, all sense of personal space forgotten. The bar is noisy, sure, but there’s really no need for him to be _this_ close and he knows it.

“What?” Gladio asks, a little ruddy in his cheeks.

“With _Ignis_ ,” Nyx tells him - he doesn’t have the right to call him Iggy, not _yet_ , “Help me stand a chance with Ignis.”

“What’s in it for me?” Gladio asks, “And you better not just be fucking around.”

Nyx shakes his head.

He’s _not_ just fucking around. Maybe he would have, treated this like any other passing fancy, but it’s been _weeks_ now, months even and every time he sees Ignis his heart does a weird _lurch_ like it momentarily forgot what its function is supposed to be.

Ignis is _smart_ and he’s beautiful and Nyx loves standing in the doorway of the meetings he’s in and listening to him put down men twice or thrice his age with a single scathing comment designed to cut through their bullshit and prejudice.

Nyx is also pretty sure Ignis has never once looked at _him_ in his entire life.

“I’m not,” Nyx makes sure he says out loud, “And anything you want. One favour from your friend, Nyx _Hero_ Ulric.”

“That girl’s phone number,” Gladio says.

Nyx frowns, “Crowe?”

“No,” Gladio laughs, “She’d kick my ass.”

Nyx nods because, yeah, she fucking would.

“The one with blond hair,” Gladio goes on, he gestures with his hand somewhere around his pecs, “Yea high.”

“Oh. _Her_ ,” Nyx says, “She’s fun, you’ll like her.”

They clink their beer bottles together and fall into quiet laughter. Nyx is halfway through the bottle again before he _remembers_ what he was after.

“Ignis,” Nyx says frantically and he shakes Gladio’s arm, “Tell me how to attract _Ignis_.”

Gladio snorts.

“You gotta get his attention man. Like _really_ get it.”

\- - -

Ignis is the best dagger thrower in the Crownsguard.

By a lot.

But Nyx knows _he’s_ better.

Ignis never misses, sure, but he’s also _methodical_. He could be as good as Nyx, one day - and Nyx is willing to help him get there - but first he needs to learn to _feel_ what he’s doing rather than relying on his eyes. It’s muscle memory at this point, it has to be, if Ignis would just _let_ it be.

It’s _daunting_ what Nyx is about to do, might end up with him getting a dagger in the gut and an Ignis Scientia unwilling to ever talk to him again.

Or it might just make Ignis _look_ at him.

Nyx twirls his own dagger in his hand, so beneath Ignis’ notice that he hasn’t even realised Nyx is standing here. Three perfect throws Ignis retrieves from the mannequin. Walking back a little further than he was before to take aim again. He lets Ignis get the first two daggers thrown and, without thinking on it too much to talk himself out of it, tosses his own through the air to knock his third one off its course.

He’d deny it but he’s relieved when it hits - this whole thing would have simply been a mess had he _missed_. Not only would he have only _annoyed_ Ignis but he would have done it by being embarrassing rather than impressive.

His dagger hits Ignis’ and together they collide with the far wall.

Ignis looks _startled_ , ignoring the final digger held in his fist turns to _look_ at him.

Finally.

\- - -

“It’s not working,” Nyx complains.

“Oh it’s working,” Gladio says.

Nyx pulls his head up off the table and squints at his friend.

“It is?”

“I’ll deny this if you ever tell Iggy I told you but yeah. He’s interested. I’m just not sure he knows it yet,” Gladio tells him.

Nyx _really_ needs Ignis to know it. He can’t date Ignis’ subconscious.

\- - -

“If you keep your hips more parallel you’ll have an easier time,” Nyx advises.

Ignis jerks a little, his pride offended as Nyx thought it would be. He _wants_ to offend him maybe, show Ignis that he’s _smart_ as well as handsome. Ignis is smarter - handsomer too - but that doesn’t need to be said, the point here is showing Ignis that he can _keep up_.

Nyx isn’t a hundred percent sure he _can_ , but he’s willing to fucking try.

“I think you’ll find that I’m already better than my peers thank you very much,” Ignis snaps with his back still to him.

Gladio had convinced him this was a good idea. A good way to _shock_ Ignis out of his schedule, an opportunity to let him know, explicitly, that Nyx is interested and that interest isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

“For sure. Best in the citadel,” Nyx says easily, honestly, “But do you want to better than them or better than _you_?”

Ignis turns around finally, face _intrigued_ certainly even if Nyx isn’t quite able to pick up the subtleties in his expression in the dim room.

It takes Ignis a long moment to answer and when he does it’s a short,“Very well.”

Nyx smiles as Ignis comes over and tells himself to _calm the fuck down_ when Ignis all but _presents_ himself for Nyx’s guidance. Ignis holds still and steady as Nyx puts his hand around his hips and later his _legs_ to help Ignis perfect his poses on the pommel.

When its all over Nyx escapes into the locker room to jerk off.

He probably won’t tell Gladio about _that_ part when they meet up for drinks tomorrow.

\- - -

Nyx pushes the chair Ignis was sat in away from the table with his foot, hoping to invite him back in.

This is it. His last ditch attempt to convince Ignis. Not that he’ll give up after this - he’ll never give up - but he might have exhausted all of Gladio’s knowledge on his friend after this, exhausted every _favour_ he could possibly hope to earn.

Nyx is pretty sure _Noct_ won’t be thrilled about any relationship Nyx might forge with his adviser so going to the little prince for help is a no go.

It’s on _him_ now. Nyx needs to find a way to get under Ignis’ skin the way he’s under Nyx’s and stay there. He just wants Ignis to think of him fondly, to wonder where Nyx is when he isn’t around.

Ignis doesn’t sit in the offered chair and Nyx’s heart sinks.

“Or I can just give you a ride home,” Nyx offers, never wanting Ignis to be _uncomfortable_ , not even for one second.

But when he starts to pull the chair back in Ignis grabs for it, holding it steady with his hand so Nyx can’t finish the movement.

Ignis face is almost unreadable when he says, “Let me at least finish my wine.”

Nyx grins as Ignis takes his seat. _Yes_. It’s happening.

Ignis is sitting with him _willingly_.

“You come here often, gorgeous?” Nyx asks, going for confident and landing it _perfectly_. If he says so himself.

Ignis rolls his eyes but there’s the slightest quiver in the corner of his mouth as he takes a sip of his wine that tells Nyx he would have smiled if he thought he could do it without being noticed.

Ignis makes that face _a lot_ , always striving to be perfectly impassive when the world around him is full of incompetent fools.

Nyx is a fool, for Ignis, but he hopes to never be incompetent.

Ignis makes a noise of satisfaction that pulls at Nyx’s gut. Nyx _ignores_ it. He can worry about that later, think about that noise again when he’s by himself with just his imagination and his hands for company.

“You can do better than that,” Ignis challenges.

Leaning forward Nyx takes a chance on invading Ignis’ space a little. The adviser doesn’t pull back just stares blandly at him, an ever present challenge.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?” Nyx tries

Ignis snorts but it’s derisive not amused.

“That was worse,” he complains.

“Are your feet tired?” Nyx says, being utterly ridiculous because he _can_ , “Because you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

Ignis blinks twice and picks up his wine.

“Did you fall from heaven because baby -”

“Alright now,” Ignis says and he _laughs_ a beautiful tinkle of noise that sinks into Nyx’s brain and immediately becomes his favourite sound in the entire world.

He made Ignis laugh.

\- - -

“Why me?”Ignis all but whispers.

They survived their first date and the second and third trip on Nyx's motorcycle. Ignis looks breathtaking in Nyx's old jacket and its an effort to keep from simply ogling him.

Ignis had _seemed_ open and receptive to all Nyx’s charms throughout the evening, touching him freely and leaning into _Nyx’s_ touch when its bestowed. Ignis _trusts_ him to pick out his meal and chose his drinks and Nyx is blown away by a level of trust he thought he’d have to wait _years_ to earn. He peppers Nyx with questions while they eat, curious and intrigued by the flavours on his tongue he’s never experienced before.

Nyx is _very much_ in danger of feeling more than two dates and a couple months of _chasing_ warrants but as Ignis peers up at him with wide, almost fearful eyes Nyx realises he’s willing to put all of his heart on the line to stop Ignis from feeling the self doubt that evidently lives inside him.

“Why not you?” Nyx retorts.

 _Who else_? He wants to ask.

“Ignis,” Nyx says when his date makes no reply, “Igs. I don’t think you know how remarkable you are.”

Ignis’ mouth trembles and Nyx can’t _bear_ it, not now. He’s supposed to be _good_ in Ignis’ life, bringing happiness to the forefront and letting him push past the negative.

“And have you seen you?” Nyx teases, “I have this one thought, about your thighs - actually I have a lot of thoughts about your thighs but this particular one where -”

Ignis grabs two fistfuls of his jacket and yanks Nyx into him. It’s a little awkward, Ignis’ eagerness making him adorable uncoordinated and Nyx cups his hands around Ignis’ jaw to feel the soft, _soft_ skin of his face against his palms and just slow him down. He moves his mouth _carefully_ , trying to make Ignis savour this moment between them.

It’s their _first kiss_ of what Nyx hopes is a _million_ but he wants it to make a lasting impression, something Ignis can look back on with joy and not embarrassment.

Kissing Ignis is addictive though. Like fire in his hands, dangerous and temperamental but _beautiful_ and worth the effort it takes to handle it without pain. He hadn’t kissed Ignis that first night, afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop - that his body would drive him forward into motions his brain and his heart know are ill-advised.

Nyx pulls back now, gently, before his body writes a cheque his mind isn’t willing to cash - not yet. He lessens the blow of the separation by nuzzling Ignis’ nose.

Ignis blinks slowly, evidently overcome and he has never been more beautiful to Nyx than right in this moment, soft and unguarded beneath the yellow beam of his street light.

“Well okay then,” Nyx says satisfied.

It would be bold to presume he has Ignis now, even for him. But at least _this_ part he’s succeeded in.

Ignis rushes forward again, pushing up onto his tiptoes and while Nyx _does_ let him inch just a _little_ closer into his body he turns his head at the last moment so Ignis’ kiss glances off the corner of his mouth.

“Nyx,” Ignis murmurs, clearly _wanting_.

“You have an early start tomorrow,” Nyx reminds him.

If he stays, if he takes Ignis _upstairs_ even, Nyx will keep him up _all night_ , the full time between sunset and sunrise would not be enough time to be _fully_ satisfied in the delights of Ignis’ body. He needs those thigh’s _everywhere_ , around his hips and his chest, his _neck_ even if Ignis can be convinced. He’d like to spread his _own_ legs around them in turn, if Ignis is so inclined that way, to give and take and give a little more in whatever way Ignis would let him.

The seven hours between now and Ignis’ meeting is not enough time, especially if Ignis would like _any_ sleep before it.

Ignis doesn’t complain that Nyx seems to know his schedule and Nyx plans to keep on memorising it until he’s told to stop. He’d never _do_ anything with it, not apart from tactically plan the walk he takes during his lunch break every day to travel past _exactly_ wherever Ignis is supposed to be in the hopes of being _seen_ at least once per day.

“I do,” Ignis allows.

“Goodnight Ignis,” Nyx says softly.

Ignis leaves without even offering his old leather jacket back this time, just holds it tight around him as he turns to walk up the stairs to his apartment. Nyx’s heart swells, beating a rapid tattoo of Ignis’ name against his ribs.

\- - -

The first two times they’re _together_ Nyx worries he’s being a little too rough.

But when he’s flat on his back with Ignis writhing on his dick and he presses his fingers into the bruises he’d left on Ignis’ thigh when he’d fucked him _in his car_ just the night before Ignis _moans_ and there’s no hint of pain at the edges of it. Just a sound of pure delight that makes Nyx’s cock twitch inside Ignis’ hungry body.

They’re back in Ignis’ apartment for the third time. Formal dinner plans waylaid by Ignis’ meeting overrunning long enough for Nyx to drive out to the one burger place Ignis likes and return to the Citadel in time to pick him up and make sure he eats before he crashes. Nyx _thinks_ its the only burger place Ignis will eat from anyway but he’s cobbling the information together from context clues and old stories from Gladio. The _slightly_ overpriced restaurant a stones throw from the university does take-out though, and that’s all that really matters.

Nyx expects Ignis to be sleepy after his dinner, awake enough maybe for a cuddle on the couch, a brief make-out where Nyx can get his hands on Iggy’s ass and thighs long enough to burn the feel of them into his brain. Just enough to tide him over until their next encounter.

“Bed, I think,” Ignis says, when all the mess is cleared away.

Nyx leans forward to kiss his cheek, thinking it’s time to say goodnight but Ignis turns his head and catches Nyx’s mouth in a _searing_ kiss that makes his toes curl and his cock twitch to life in a second flat.

“I had some _ideas_ ,” Ignis murmurs, long eyelashes fluttering over his high cheekbones, “If you’re amenable.”

“What kind of ideas?”

Generally speaking Nyx doesn’t really have _preferences_. He likes good sex with attractive people and owing to his size and stature he’s often the one taking control, folding people underneath him and pulling them apart.

He tops, for want of a better word, physically _and_ metaphorically more than anything else.

And if that was all that was on the table with Ignis would he be completely, absolutely thrilled and satisfied?

Of course.

However -

Ignis crooks his fingers, almost _cruel_ in the way they grind against Nyx’s prostate and Nyx’s cock gives a feeble lurch where it’s trapped between his belly and the bed sheets. Ignis’ knee nudges his thigh and Nyx spreads them a little more, far enough that the burn of stretch in his thighs seems to match the way his hole flutters when Iggy scissors his fingers apart with a low murmur of satisfaction.

“Iggy,” Nyx groans.

“Mmm, yes dear?”

 _Yes, dear_.

Nyx _hates_ him, Nyx _adores_ him.

“Get on with it please,” Nyx asks, not too proud or afraid to go straight to begging.

Ignis drapes himself over his back, finger pressing _deeper_ than before and his mouth is wet and glorious behind Nyx's ear when he chuckles richly and slides his fingers free.

The condom was discarded by his own head so he gets to see Ignis’ hand reach for it, fingers _visibly_ damp, as his lays their open and ready, _desperate_ for something to fill him.

“Easy,” Ignis chides when Nyx’s leg kicks out slightly, restless and impatient.

Ignis has to sit back to slide the latex over his shaft and Nyx _waits_ while he does it, unsure of how or when he’ll be touched next.

He head of Iggy’s cock presses against his rim, no teasing or baiting as it splits him apart and buries deep inside him. Nyx presses his face into the pillows to stifle his moans but Ignis’ long fingers twist into his hair and all but _yank_ him free of them.

“I don’t think so,” Ignis chides and he bottoms out, toned thighs right up against his ass. He slaps his hand onto the small of Nyx’s back to support himself, beautifully trapping the Glaive beneath his compact and exquisite form.

“Ah, _fuck_ , Ignis,” Nyx cries out when he pulls out to slide back in roughly.

Ignis doesn’t build up slowly or check to see if he’s okay for which Nyx is grateful - nothing in this moment could be more okay than the feel of Ignis hammering into him, breath short and laboured behind him.

Nothing could be better in this moment than Ignis’ breathy murmurs of , “ _Gods_ you’re good.”

Nyx can’t move his head, can barely move his hips more than a restless shift to chase the sweet pleasure of Ignis’ cock deep inside him, solid and warm and _perfect_. All Nyx can do is twist his hands into the fine cotton of Ignis’ bedspread and try not to babble out any words of praise that will embarrass him later.

He comes _fast_ , embarrassingly so, but Ignis _gasps_ when it happens. Finally releasing Nyx’s hair he presses his palm flat against Nyx’s back.

Maybe Nyx can’t _quite_ draw deep breath held down like this, maybe the pressure on his back makes him slightly dizzy and maybe that pulls _more_ pleasure from his gut, an unexpected second pulse of release spreading messily over the sheets.

Ignis releases his hold long before wonder can turn to actual fear, bending to kiss a sweet line across Nyx’s heaving shoulders and then a messier string of them down his spine as he carefully pulls free from his body. It takes Nyx a _while_ to me mobile again, Ignis come and gone and back again with a damp towel to clean him up when he eventually manages to roll into his back again.

Nyx sets himself one side of the damp spot and Ignis wrinkles his nose at it when he takes it in, striding from his bathroom all long limbs and lean muscles that Nyx wants to explore with his eyes, hands and mouth forever. Ignis doesn’t make him stand to change the bedding though, just drapes himself over Nyx’s body, chest almost entirely on his and stunning thigh cinched tightly over both of Nyx’s.

“You’re alright?” Ignis asks, “I was alright?”

“You were _perfect_ ,” Nyx reassures him honestly, cupping the back of Ignis’ head with his palm and encouraging him in for a proper kiss.

Ignis is blushing when they pull apart, lovely and gloriously pink over the alabaster skin covering his cheekbones.

“I don’t know about that,” Ignis says.

“I do.”

\- - -

The code to Ignis’ phone isn’t _hard_ to crack. If you know him a little you’d deem it too obvious, to _silly_ for Ignis to have even considered. But Nyx _really_ knows him, knows Ignis is sentimental to almost a fault, keeping little knick-knacks and notes that seem in counterpoint to his personality.

0231 unlocks Ignis’ phone.

Its probably a breach of security, the first digits from your friend’s birthday but Nyx thinks it’s perfect and wonderful. They never _talk_ about Nyx knowing his pass code because to do so would make the silly game they play no longer a _safe place_ for Nyx to ask the questions he’s too worried bout being rejected over. It’s how he asks Ignis to be his boyfriend and gets himself a key cut to the apartment they spend most of their time.

The first time he says _I love you_ is in person with his mouth though. Some things are too sacred even for Nyx.

It makes Nyx’s eyes damp, makes him have to press his face into the beautiful curve of Ignis’ throat for a moment to just _breathe_ when his boyfriend says it back almost immediately.

Nyx was just glad to have a space in Ignis’ life, being accepted into his _heart_ too is a privilege Nyx will never take for granted

\- - -

They’re together two years before anything bad really happens.

They squabble _sometimes_ , but rarely and never more serious than can’t be quickly dissolved by Nyx’s stupid attempts to get Ignis to laugh. He’s always successful though if asked Ignis would say differently.

Prompto comes along and with it comes an extra two digits on Ignis’ pass code, sooner than Nyx would have expected but not _so_ soon that Nyx allows himself to be hurt that _he_ never made it in. Nyx suspects he _would_ have were Ignis not the man he is and therefore completely unwilling to give Nyx the satisfaction of both the _knowledge_ of his pass code _and_ being special enough to be part of it.

The trust means more to Nyx that any outward declaration from Ignis ever could anyway.

Nyx knew _eventually_ they’d have to deal with some crisis, some hurdle or argument that seemed insurmountable but that Nyx would ultimately dig up the whole Disc of Cauthess to make right it he had to - he just never expected it to be _this_.

[Captain 14:30] Code Black.

 _Code black_.

Someone is dead. Someone _important._

It’s King Regis, or Prince Noctis. Either of their Shields.

 _Ignis_.

Somebody is dead.

Nyx is elbow deep in his locker when the message comes through but he pulls his arm free and slams it closed, striding back into the corridor at once. He expects to see _carnage_ , people panicking and sure obvious signs of what’s happening but there's _nothing_. A few people pass from one room into another but they looks more relaxed than _most_ people trapped downstairs in the training halls.

Libertus enters the hallway from two doors down with his phone clutched tightly in his hand too.

Slowly, trying to appear unaffected they approach each other. Lib tilts his phone for Nyx to see and it says the same two words and nothing more.

Their phones vibrate again

[Marshal 14:31] Code Violet. Aware house enemies.

If it was _anyone_ else Nyx would just assume the clumsy wording of that was bought on by stress but it’s not anyone else it’s _Cor Leonis_.

And if Cor Leonis is messaging him instead of his _actual_ superior with an emergency code that undermines the previous one - this is _better_ at least, suggesting that no one is _dead_ \- then Nyx sure as hell isn’t going to ignore it.

Libertus puts the obvious conclusion together just moments before he does.

“Traitors,” he whispers.

“In the Guard?”

Libertus shakes his head and his face looks as pained as the sudden ache in Nyx’s own heart.

“The Glaive,” Lib says.

“We have to find Crowe,” Nyx blurts.

They turn at once, steps even and pace the same.

“It can’t be her,” Libertus says and Nyx isn’t sure he’s really talking to him at all.

\- - -

It’s not Crowe but in the _entire day_ it takes to reunite with her she almost loses her life in penance for refusing to turn her cloak the other way. Nyx and Libertus arrive in time to ensure it is just an _almost_ loss of life but Nyx has to bury one of his daggers in Luche’s spine to make it so.

Luche was his _friend_.

They were brothers in arms, born in the same country though not on the same island and given a safe haven in this City _together_ when Galahd was not a place either of them could remain.

Nyx doesn’t _understand_ it. Doesn’t understand why _King Regis_ is to be blamed for the ill feelings sometimes sent the way of immigrants in this city. He had _saved_ Galahd, pulled it back from the brink after his _father_ had left it to go to waste after the war. Nyx can’t imagine wanting the man _dead_.

He certainly doesn’t understand how members of the Glaive could turn on their brothers and sisters to get it done. He leaves Libertus with Crowe, hastily checking that Pelna’s wound won’t bleed him dry before help can arrive and pushes onward.

That Code Violet will not turn to a Code Black.

Not on his watch.

Even if _he_ held no affection for the King himself he couldn’t allow it.

Not when - despite everything Ignis might say - this man is the closest thing to a father his lover has in this world. Noctis too, can’t be allowed to lose his father, not now, not so young when he’s barely working out who he is and the type of man he will one day become.

_Drautos._

Clarus Amicitia is injured but still on his feet, guarding his King with his body as a last line if nothing else holds. Drautos raises his sword and Nyx knows the full force of it might slice all the way through the two of them, that the cycle of no Shield outliving their King will once again become true in the most heartbreaking of ways.

Nyx looses a dagger into the air, throwing it so it can slip between heavy folds of his _Captain’s_ armour. It slices into the joint of his shoulder and his grip on the sword falters and fails. Clarus straightens the moment he sees the opening, driving his own sword through the man who dare attempt harm on his King.

From his spot just half a dozen paces into the throne room Nyx watches the end of Clarus’ sword burst through the centre of Drautos back. He barely makes a gurgle, no cry of pain or time for poignant last words.

Clarus yanks his sword free and the body tumbles to the ground.

“Glaive Ulric,” King Regis says, voice shaking, “You have done the line of Lucis a great service once more.”

“Your Majesty,” Nyx says, he bows, sort of, protocol deserting him as the day flashes through his mind.

“Have you seen Cor?” Clarus asks, “He left and -”

“He and Monica were questioning people,” Nyx tells him, “But I suspect we have all the traitors now sir.”

“Incapacitated?”

Nyx thinks of Luche’s body pulled to one corner of the room and Tredd with blood dripping from a nose, broken by Lib’s elbow, being forced into a chair and his arms bound tight to it.

“I believe so,” Nyx says, “Allow me to remain with you, however. Until the all clear is given.”

Nothing is getting to them now. Not on Nyx’s watch.

\- - -

“Ulric - Nyx,” King Regis says.

Nyx hasn’t left his side, filling in the gap Clarus is unable to manage with his leg bandaged and swollen. They’re _finally_ all clear, Regis relocated to a room to recover from an injury Nyx hadn’t noticed at first. There’s Crownsguard lining the halls but still Nyx stays, unwilling to leave unless sent away.

Ignis is safe, he knows, had known the moment they’d known the traitors were _in house_ because Ignis had never come to the day the alert had gone out.

Nyx hasn’t slept. Not even for a second, but he’s not sure he _can_ , not unless that sleep involves Ignis’ arms around him or his back tucked in tight to his chest.

“Your Majesty,” Nyx says.

“I wonder if you could do one last favour for me, before getting some much needed rest,” Regis says.

“Anything.”

“My son and his companions will be returning soon and I have it on authority that they abandoned their phones and their cars at the University before heading to safety. Would you be so good as to take a few extra guards with you and collect them for me?”

 _Ignis_.

Ignis is coming back here.

“Of course sir,” Nyx says. He bows and makes to leave but Regis raises a hand.

“Bring the phones right here,” Regis reiterates, “I’m sure I’ll have visitors by the time you return.”

The King’s smile seems to take effort but there’s a kindness there too and an understanding Nyx is grateful for.

Do this simple task, he’s saying, and you have an excuse to see Ignis sooner.

-

Nyx drives Ignis’ car, not least because it turns out to be the car with all the phones it but because he has to adjust the mirrors the least to drive it safely but no matter who takes Gladio’s car will have a hundred adjustments to make.

The elevator ride upstairs and the walk to Regis’ room is _long_ but its worth it because _Ignis_ will be in there.

Ignis.

Nyx can’t put his arms around him and kiss him like he wants to, can’t reunite the way they will when they’re _finally_ at home alone together later but he can look at him. And that will be enough for now.

Nyx knocks before he enters and feels the weight of what feels like a dozen eyes on him as he drops into a quick bow. He’s still exhausted, but buoyed by the confirmation of his and Ignis’ impending reunion.

“I did as you asked, Your Majesty,” Nyx says, “Scientia’s car is in the garage and I have their phones right here.”

Its not the words he wants to say but there are stranger’s ears in the hallway and its so important to Ignis, to his _career_ that they stay only professional when under the eyes of others that Nyx daren’t even breath his first name for fear of the obvious affection in his tone giving them away.

“Thank you Ulric. For this and everything else,” Regis says and he offers him the warmest of smiles.

Nyx gives him another bow and Noct is suddenly all up in his space, tugging his phone from the devices in Nyx’s hand.

“I’m going to call Prompto,” Noct says.

Good, Nyx thinks. If he hadn’t been sent on _this_ errand then seeing Prompto was going to be his first task.

“Better be quick he has class in eight minutes,” Gladio points out, “Tell him I’ll call after -”

Ignis brushes past him, muttering a rough, “Forgive me.”

“Iggy -” Nyx blurts before the door swings shut behind his boyfriend.

“He’s barely slept,” Gladio says, “Kept it - _us_ \- together the whole time.”

“Sirs,” Nyx says hastily, nodding at the King and Shield in turn before he too is rushing from the room, catching sight of Ignis as he ducks into what must be a _cupboard_ , catching _up_ in time to stop the door before it slams closed behind him.

“Iggy,” Nyx repeats, shutting out the world with a decisive click.

Ignis inhales and it sounds _wet_.

“Igs,” Nyx murmurs, stepping close to pass his hand reassuringly over Ignis’ shoulder.

Ignis spins and Nyx has his arms full of him in a single blink.

He’s _crying_ , Nyx realises as he gets his arms properly around Ignis. Shoulders trembling and tears dampening his collar as he _falls apart_ in Nyx’s hold.

 _Kept it together the whole time_.

Until now. Until he was with Nyx, until they were _together_ again.

“Hey, hey,” Nyx says soothingly and Ignis makes a _noise_ , a harsh sob that shocks Nyx to his core.

Nyx never thought Ignis was unfeeling, knows that to be untrue as much as he knows anything in his life but he never thought, not even for a second that he’d get to witness _this_. Ignis hasn’t turned to Gladio for this, hasn’t clutched Noct tight and cried into his raven hair or sat beside him at Regis’ beside so the King can stroke over his hair.

Ignis came to _Nyx_.

Ignis trusts Nyx with _this_.

The rawest part of his heart.

“Are you alright?” Ignis chokes out after a _long_ while.

“Of course I am,” Nyx says, pressing a kiss to his hair. Ignis responds in kind, mouth briefly touching his neck where its most slick with tears.

“What did you think was going to happen to me?” Nyx asks, “You thought I was gonna let some asshole hurt any of the things you care about?”

Nyx doesn’t mention what he’d had to do to _be_ safe, how he’d almost lost his oldest friend and taken a life of his own. They’ll talk about it later, Nyx will _need_ to talk about it later, but for now he has _this_ and that’s just about everything.

Ignis gives a miserable little laugh and sniffs before managing to say, “As long as you include yourself in that list.”

“So you would miss me if I was gone,” Nyx teases. He closes his eyes and presses his face into Ignis’ hair.

Ignis _loves_ him.

It dawns on Nyx then what he wants to do, _needs_ to do to ensure his continues and eternal happiness.

He just doesn’t know _how_.

\- - -

023125.

That’s the code he has to put into Ignis’ phone nowadays.

That’s the code Nyx has to use to ask Ignis the most important question of his life in the dumbest way possible.

\- - -

[Gladio 15:01] You need to get down here.

[Gladio 15:03] Seriously dude, Iggy’s crying.

Nyx doesn’t _run_. Mostly because he’s still technically at work but also, partly, because he needs the walk to Iggy’s office to calm himself down. Nyx has a ring, his _father’s_ ring, tucked in the simple leather pouch he’d stowed it in when he’d fled Galahd but recently cleaned and taken down the necessary size to fit Ignis’ more elegant hand.

It’s a plain band, polished Galahdian silver with traditional markings along the inside. They’re worn and so old that no ones ever been able to confirm exactly what they say but when Nyx tells Ignis in a while that they mean _love_ he’s absolutely sure he won’t be lying.

Nyx puts his hand on Ignis’ door handle and turns, walking straight _smack_ into polished wood when it doesn’t open. Nyx almost _jumps_ back, blinking a little dazedly.

The bolt slides noisily across as the door unlocks and Gladio’s face peers out through the narrow opening.

“Get the hell in there,” Gladio says, “We’ll all meet you for a drink later.”

They cross paths in the doorway, Gladio slapping him heartily on the shoulder as they slide past each other.

The door snaps closed behind him but Ignis doesn’t move, face braced in his hands and shoulders trembling slightly.

“Hey babe,” Nyx says.

Ignis sniffs but doesn’t raise his face, “I _hate_ you.”

Nyx laughs and rushes over, sinking onto his knees beside Ignis’ chair.

“I love you,” Nyx says, “Iggy -”

Nyx places his hand on Ignis’ thigh and turns him gently, chair spinning on it’s axis under the pressure. He straighten up, as tall as he can from his knees and reaches behind Ignis’ hands to cup his jaw. Ignis lets his hands fall away and Nyx swipes at the tear trails immediately, shocked and awed and _touched_ that he garnered such a reaction.

“Ask me properly,” Ignis demands though the usual force of his words is rather undercut by the wetness still on his face and the thick quality of his voice.

Pulling the pouch from his back pocket Nyx tumbles the ring onto his palm. Ignis starts to remove his glove, all haste and no finesse. Nyx feels a lump in his own throat, the culmination of everything he’s wanted for so long right on the edge of his grasp.

“Ignis Scientia,” Nyx starts, chuckling when Ignis rolls his eyes, “I love you more than - than literally anything else in the world. Please, will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

Ignis sniffs loudly, swiping under his nose with his still gloved hand.

Gods it’s perfect. He loves Ignis all ways but _open_ and undignified is one of his favourites.

“Yes,” Ignis says, “Yes I suppose I will.”

He leans forward while Nyx’s laugh is only half formed, stealing the noise with his own mouth. Nyx cups Ignis’ jaw more firmly and clenches the ring tightly in his fist.

“So this is my Dad’s ring -”

“Oh, love,” Ignis sighs.

Nyx had is resized but he’d mostly been _guessing_ because Ignis doesn’t wear jewellery at all other than his necklace from Noctis, let alone hiding rings under his gloves. The band slides onto his finger _perfectly_ , nestling right where it’s supposed to be.

“If you don’t like it -”

“Hush,” Ignis says then Nyx is being kissed again.

Nyx isn’t sure when, but at some point Ignis sinks onto the ground with him, mostly straddling his thighs with his fingers in Ignis’ hair.

“Hey, are we gonna have sex in your office again?” Nyx whispers against his mouth.

Ignis laughs and swats at his shoulder but they do.

Putting his gloves back on probably would have saved Ignis’ palms from the carpet burn but he’d wanted to keep looking at his ring, or so he’d said.

“Give me your phone,” Nyx says after they’re done.

They’re still naked, lying against the carpet with Nyx’s Glaive jacket tucked around them for warmth.

“No,” Ignis says, “Never, you’re not changing it ever again.”

Nyx smiles into the kiss he presses against Ignis’ hair.

“Please,” he murmurs, “Trust me?”

Ignis sighs but he sits up long enough to retrieve his phone from his desk and lay it amongst the hair on Nyx’s chest.

It’s a small change, just swapping a ? for a <3.

“That is the only change I would have accepted,” Ignis mumbles.

\- - -

News of their engagement spreads exactly as far as they allow it.

Clarus, Cor _and_ Regis all stop to congratulate him the first time they see him anywhere not swarming with people and their friends are _overjoyed_ at the news. Lib gets teary eyed when they take them out to dinner to tell them and Crowe puts her hand over Ignis and solemnly asks him -

“You know you’re too good for him, right?”

Prompto _actually_ cries, just a few stray tears that disappear with one swipe of Nyx’s thumb and Nyx always new he’d have Gladio’s blessing, the bear hug is just a little icing on top of the cake.

Noct’s sat up on his kitchen counters while everyone else congratulates them. When hugs and well wishes are over he _stares_ at Nyx for long enough that Ignis clears his throat.

“Noct…”

The prince puts his eyes on his oldest friend.

“Can I officiate the wedding?” Noct asks. The relief is like a punch in the gut.

“Do you promise not to swear during the ceremony?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Noct says flatly.

Ignis sighs, “Then I think you have your answer.”

\- - -

Their engagement is three months old when Nyx finds Ignis at his desk, staring at _nothing at all_ and twisting his engagement ring around and around on his finger.

“What’s the matter?”

Ignis startles and places both his hands flat on his desk.

“Nothing.”

“Ignis,” Nyx sighs.

He doesn’t wait for Ignis to offer him information or an invitation just strides into their home office and takes Ignis’ hands to pull him out of his chair. The distance between here and the couch is just long enough for Ignis to come up with an excuse or second guess being honest so Nyx replaces Ignis in the office chair and then encourages his _fiance_ into his lap.

Ignis folds himself up, tucked right up against him with his head under Nyx’s chin.

“Tell me,” Nyx begs. He doesn’t demands. He’d never _demand_ honestly from Ignis, Nyx only wants that when it’s freely give. Ignis is so inherently private a person that forcing him won’t amount to any true honesty at all.

“I realised something today,” Ignis whispers.

Nyx hums encouragingly and slips his hands beneath Ignis’ blazer, splaying his fingers over his thin shirt to work as much warmth into his being at once.

“I - I don’t want children.”

Nyx doesn’t say anything. He hadn’t _known_ this, but he had suspected much.

“I know we couldn’t have our own in a traditional sense but I think - _no_. I’m certain that I don’t want to have any in a non-traditional sense either.”

Nyx rubs his back a little more but rather than be comforted Ignis sits up so he can look into Nyx’s face.

“I’m _so sorry_ love,” he says.

“What. Why are you _sorry_?”

“I know how important family is to you, I’d never want to take any of that away from you and I understand if that mean -”

Nyx presses the fingers of his free hand over Ignis’ mouth to stop him.

“Babe,” Nyx says seriously, “If you think for one second that I don’t consider us _swimming_ in family then we actually _do_ need to have a talk.”

Ignis’ mouth quivers, his eyes widening behind his lenses look altogether a different kind of glassy.

“So you don’t - you don’t mind?”

Nyx tugs at his fiancee, pulling him closer so they’re nose to nose.

“Still get to marry you don’t I?” Nyx says. Ignis nods.

“Still get to watch Noct and Luna have kids and love the shit out of them? Be the best gay uncles possible for whatever kind of kids Gladio and Prom end up having?”

Ignis laughs and a tear slips from the corner of one eye.

“Come here,” Nyx says softly and Ignis closes the rest of the distance himself, just the whisper of a sigh before his mouth is against Nyx’ soft and warm and affectionate.

“ _We’re_ a family,” Nyx reiterates, “Okay?”

“Okay.”

\- - -

Noct’s wedding is an _affair_.

Nyx gets to see the whole thing. As a guest.

The news of his and Ignis’ relationship as spread a little more what once was a well kept secret now something of an open one after Ignis’ uncle talked loudly - and disparagingly - about it in the Citadel.

Whatever. Nyx never wanted to hide anyway and if Ignis has had any negative kickback about it he hasn’t mentioned it to him.

What it mean though is that they can _dance_ together.

They stand together on the edge of the dance floor as Luna and Noct move around it, adorable and gorgeous together as they go through the basic steps they had learnt this past week. They’re cute, there’s no denying it, and Nyx really hopes they can be happy together despite the fact this isn’t necessarily what they would have _chosen_.

When the music ends and they’ve applauded the newly weds beckon their guests onto the floor beside them for the second dance. Regis walks out with the Queen of Tenebrae’s hand in his and Nyx reaches for Ignis’.

“Nyx,” Ignis says, “Are we -”

Nyx walks out amongst the crowd and turns, pulling Ignis into his arms.

“Yes,” Nyx says, “We are.”

He puts one hand on Ignis’ waist and pulls him as close as he dares. _Ignis_ tugs himself a little closer.

“I suppose I’ll let you lead,” Ignis sighs, “Just this once.”

\- - -

Noctis and Luna have been on their honeymoon for _almost_ four weeks now.

Gladio’s gone with them and the _idea_ of Ignis - and Nyx - being left behind was so that Ignis could take some time off.

But as of yet that hasn’t happened.

Not even a _day_.

Nyx is so rarely angry at Ignis. Almost never. Ignis' work comes first, and Nyx had understood it would take some _time_ for an engagement to turn into a marriage for them. It's not like he thought they’d actually get _married_ while Noct was gone but they could at least us the time to put some work into planning it.

There have been save the date samples on their dining table for _month_ , moved from one end to the other when one of them works there or they settle down for dinner. Nyx had narrowed down to his top three and Ignis had picked his favourite of those but they’d never set a date. Ignis hadn’t suggested one and Nyx hadn’t wanted to ask. Hadn’t wanted to push.

But he thinks he might have to.

He scoots the box of samples along the table and the stress and the uncertainty bubbles up inside him and just _spills out_.

“Do you even _want_ to get married?”

Ignis is understandably startled, looking over at him from where he was cooking them dinner.

“Of course I -”

“Then why has nothing _happened_?”

“Nyx, love -”

“No!”

Nyx doesn’t know why he can’t stop, why he’s being like this when Ignis is nothing but _wonderful_ to him.

“I just - Iggy. I would wait _forever_ for you, you know that. But please, please don’t make me.”

Ignis calmly turns off the stove top and shifts the pan he was working on to the back. Slowly he walks towards Nyx and wraps his arms over his shoulders, face tucked into his neck. Nyx things that’s probably it, that this is what he’s getting from this exchange so he wraps his arms around Ignis’ waist to absorb any comfort while he can.

“I love you,” Ignis says against his skin, “Nyx. Take me to Galahd.”

“What?”

Ignis pulls back enough to look into his eyes.

“You're right. Lets go. Now. In the morning, lets just _go_. We can get married there and worry about the legal side of things here afterwards.”

“Iggy -”

“You think I care about a _wedding_? We’ll have to wait for that, between my schedule and -”

Nyx kisses him and Ignis goes right up on his tiptoes to kiss him back.

“You mean it?” Nyx gasps when they pull apart, “You really mean it?”

“Yes,” Ignis says, he nods and a _breathtaking_ smile stretches across his face, “Finish dinner and I’ll arrange my schedule.”

Ignis tries to pull away but Nyx laughs and holds him tight.

“Wait, wait,” Nyx says, “Stay here a second.”

Ignis nuzzles his jaw and teases, “I thought you were tired of waiting?”

Nyx cups his jaw to kiss him, pressing his tongue past the seam of Ignis’ lips to taste him, his free hand pressing against the small of Ignis’ back to wedge them tight together.

-

King Regis asks to see him before their trip and Ignis assures Nyx he didn’t tell Regis _why_ they were going, had just dropped him a short message that he had decided to go away _after all_ and Regis had almost immediately responded asking them to make some time to see him before they went if they possibly could. Ignis makes an appointment with him for early in the morning and Nyx goes ahead and books tickets on the first boat leaving the Insomnia port after lunch.

With anyone else it would probably be a mission to get packed in time but Nyx is marrying _Ignis Scientia_ so they’re not only packed before turning in for the night but with enough time for him to convince Ignis into a quick, celebratory romp too.

Ignis pulls Nyx over him the moment his cock nudges against his entrance, relaxed and spread form the attention of Nyx’s fingers. He rocks down as Nyx thrusts up and they join together in perfect moment of symmetry.

Ignis buries his noise in Nyx’s collarbone and drags his hands up his spine, clinging to Nyx’s shoulders as they rock together slowly, together and close and _finding_ a release together rather than chasing towards something in a hurry.

“I love you,” Nyx gasps when he spills inside his husband to be with the sting of Ignis’ nails still throbbing in his shoulder blades.

\- - -

Regis just looks at them, expression bland as he glances back and forth between them.

Ignis fidgets in an unusual display of nerves.

“You’ve come to ask my blessing,” Regis says, “I must say you’re a year too late, Ulric, but I’ll allow it.”

Nyx feels his stomach drop to his feet. He _should_ have asked. He’d decided _not_ to ask Iggy’s uncle for a multitude of reasons but here is where he could have come for a blessing before hand, honoured the man that really _is_ Ignis’ father.

“I _had_ hoped,” Regis goes on and Nyx looks up to see him _smile,_ the same - for want of a better word - shit eating grin that graces his son’s face whenever he’s about to do something particularly bratty, “That you and Gladiolus would get together but I understand that was simply a young man’s dalliance and I believe things worked out best in the end. We got dear Prompto, after all.”

Nyx turns to his fiance and raises an eyebrows. He's half surprised and half _amused_.

He’d _known_ already, suspected strongly, anyway and he doesn’t _care_ \- neither of them came together pure as driven snow - but to have it pointed out to him here and _now._ By the _King_ no less.

Noctis really is his father’s son.

“Your Majesty!” Ignis protests, “I -”

“I’m sorry for teasing,” Regis laughs, “You’re a wonderful man, Nyx. You have done much for me and my family, you know this, and it’s an honour to see you with son.”

“Sire,” Ignis whispers.

“You’re eloping,” Regis says bluntly.

Nyx laughs before he can tamp it down and Ignis kind of wilts at his side.

“You know,” Ignis says.

“I suspected,” Regis says, “You’ve been engaged for a year and I’ve received no invitation so I assumed this was how it would go.”

He smiles at them and Nyx decides to jut reach out and take Ignis’ hand.

“I got you something,” Regis says and he leans over to pull open one of his drawers and retrieve a brown envelope. Ignis steps forward to take it without dropping Nyx’s hand so Nyx shuffles along behind him. Nyx has to hold the envelope steady for Ignis to slide whatever is inside out of it without unlacing their fingers.

Ignis _does_ drop his hand though, when he sees whatever it is, using it to cover his mouth as it drops open in shock.

“Sire,” Ignis says, “You -”

“Congratulations,” Regis says, “Just a signature from both of you and it’ll be all squared away.”

“Wait,” Nyx says and he’s ashamed to say he all but _snatches_ the paper from Iggy’s hand.

It’s a _marriage_ licence.

 _Their_ marriage licence.

“Thank you,” Nyx says, “Thank you, sir - Your Majesty.”

Regis waves him way, “Enough of that, you’re part of the family now. And know that I could not have let anyone that makes him _less_ happy have him.”

Nyx nods respectfully.

“You leave today?” Regis asks.

“Yes,” Ignis whispers, taking the licence from Nyx’s hand and just _staring_ at it.

“There’s a ceremony in Galahd? Something to make it official there?” Regis asks him.

Nyx half glances at Ignis as his looks up from the proof of their _marriage_.

“Yes,” Nyx says, “Something that doesn’t need any signatures.”

“You’ll owe Noctis a party when you’re all back,” Regis warns them, “Something with just the family.”

\- - -

Ignis feels _ill_ for the first hour of the journey.

The water is unusually choppy and while Ignis isn’t _physically_ sick at any point but it’s hardly the start to their trip Nyx would have chosen.

“Sorry,” Nyx murmurs, kissing his forehead.

“Nothing to be done for it,” Ignis says, “And I’m starting to feel better already.”

“Good,” Nyx hums, “I can’t be marrying a man without sea legs.”

\- - -

Nyx sent a message as soon as he could but he doesn’t _really_ expect anyone to be able to get in and sort the house out before his arrival.

 _Yet._ When they make their way from the main dock and into the town to arrive at his family home it’s to find a note on the door.

_Welcome home._

_Water’s blessing on your union._

“Water’s blessing?” Ignis murmurs.

“We honour and respect the water lest it wash the islands away,” Nyx says, “It means they support us - support you being here and out impending marriage.”

Ignis folds the note carefully and tucks it into his pocket as Nyx drops his bag onto the ground and slips his long disused key into the lock. It clicks open easily and swings open with no trouble.

“You told them you were here to get married?” Ignis asks, following him inside.

Nyx shakes his head slowly, distracted by looking around.

It’s _spotless_ inside, more so than one days notice could possibly achieve, windows pushed wide open to allow the island breeze to clean the air. The village must have cared for his home in his absence, keeping it fresh and stopping it from falling into disrepair. Nyx feels a lump rise in his throat and swallows around it.

The house is simple as it ever was, traditional large yellow-orange bricks quarried from the centre of the island with the low thatched roof. It’s all one story, a main communal living space and three doors leading off to each of the bedrooms.

It’s not quite _home_ any more but the feeling it forms in Nyx’s chest is _close_ to it, an analogous feeling that brings no small amount of pain into his heart.

A bag drops to the floor before Ignis is strokes across his shoulder blades, pressing close to his side to brush a kiss across his jaw.

“Do you need a minute, love? I can go for a walk.”

Nyx shakes his head again, “No. No, don’t leave me.”

“Have you been back since -”

“No.”

Ignis kisses him again, pressing his cheek against Nyx so that he’s _close_ and _right_ _there._

“Can I take you to the river?” Nyx says.

“Now?” Ignis asks, obviously surprised.

“Please.”

-

People wave and yell greetings as they walk from the house to the river but no one approaches close, leaving them to this first outing alone. It’s _late_ , the last rays of sun picking over the water in golden hues. By the time they get to the water it’ll likely be nothing but moonlight but Nyx needs to see it, needs to submerge his feet in the cold water and let the island wash him clean.

They’d changed before heading out, just to shed some of what eight hours on a boat will do to a person and Nyx is used to seeing Ignis in sweaters and t-shirts around the apartment but its something else all together to see him in a soft polo and jeans out and about.

The sound of the rushing water reaches them long before the water is _visible_ through the trees.

“Ah,” Ignis says.

They make their way down to the water’s edge down the same well trodden but unofficial path Nyx had taken as a child and teen, laughing with Libertus and chasing Crowe with a bulbous toad or a string of sticky weed until she was splashing clear across the wide river to the other side of the island. It’s always low here, at the point where the river crosses into the sea but it’s especially low during summer, just a half dozen inches of water slowly rolling over sand and stones and waterlogged leaves.

Nyx hadn’t thought he’d missed it.

Hadn’t thought that anything the island had to offer had been a detriment to be missing from his life but he tugs off his shoes the moment they reach the back and rushes into the water only to realise he’s been _yearning_ for this place.

The water is _cold_ , unfamiliarly so now, but it doesn’t hurt him or shock him, just soothes over unknown cracks of longing in his soul and connects him straight back to his roots.

Ignis hovers on the bank, half smiling and expression tender.

Nyx holds out his hand.

“Can I join you?” Ignis asks, hope evident.

“Always,” Nyx promises.

Ignis takes off his shoes more carefully than Nyx had, stacking them neatly side by side in the sand. He rolls up the hem of his jeans to just below his knees, because he wouldn’t be the man Nyx had fallen in love with if he didn’t.

Ignis steps into his hold with barely a wince at the temperature, arms almost lazy as they wrap over his shoulders. He looks _relaxed_ despite the unfamiliar location and what must be a strange activity. Under the fledgling moonlight Ignis tilts his head back to look up at the sky, lunar glow washing him porcelain smooth and beautiful. Nyx drops a fleeting kiss to the point of his chin.

“Ignis,” Nyx says, “Will you marry me?”

Ignis laughs and it echoes across the water, making Nyx smile.

“I think we’d established that, my love.”

Nyx encourage Ignis’ head back forward so he can rest their foreheads together and sways them slightly from side to side in the water.

“The Galahdian way,” Nyx says, “In the water. There’s no paperwork and it’s not exactly legally binding but we have that squared away in Lucis -”

“Yes,” Ignis says.

Nyx laughs, “You don’t know what it entails.”

“I don’t care,” Ignis says brightly.

“You have to get a tattoo,” Nyx says, even though there’s no _have to_ about it and Nyx would certainly never make Ignis go through with it unless he was _absolutely_ certain.

“Is it on my face?” Ignis teases and he presses a soft kiss against the tiny crow’s foot on Ignis’ cheek.

“Never,” Nyx says, “My face _needed_ the embellishment but yours needs to stay just as wonderful and perfect as it it now.”

Ignis scoffs and moves his soft kiss to the corner of Nyx’s mouth.

“Charmer,” he mutters.

And stood beneath the moon and ankle deep within the waters of his home land Nyx recommits himself to the love of his life.

\- - -

“No one really gets married in the summer,” Nyx explains.

They’re tucked up close together on his old bed, sheets fresh and pillows obviously new and stripped from head to toe. The blankets are pooled around their ankles with only the soft breeze from the window caressing their skin.

Ignis half turns in his arms to nose at his jaw.

“Why ever not?”

“Its kind of seen as cheating,” Nyx explains, “Because the state of the water is supposed to reflect the kind of marriage you’ll have, so if you get married in the summer you’re mostly assuring a clam ride. Leviathan has to _really_ think you guys shouldn’t be together to show up and makes a splash during a July wedding when the whether is uniformly fine.”

It’s _mostly_ nonsense of course, Nyx knows, he and Ignis could have terrible waves during their ceremony and he’d be just as certain they belong together as smooth waters in November would imply. But it’ll mean something to other people.

Would have meant something to his mother.

“Do we need to come back in the winter?” Ignis asks, “ _I’m_ certainly confident we’d get just as positive result.”

“No,” Nyx growls and he rolls all the way on top of Ignis, “That would mean more _waiting_.”

There’s really no way he should get hard again after the way they broken in this bed but Ignis gasps when their hips press together and Nyx feels himself stir to life in response.

\- - -

Ignis’ hands scramble on the edge of the counter top, nails making a specific _noise_ as they travel across it in his attempt to find purchase.

“You’ll make us _late_ ,” Ignis laughs. The sound of Nyx’s thigh slapping against his own _just_ about drowns out his quavering moan.

Nyx adjusts his stance to thrust into him _deeper_ , hands holding Ignis’ hips steady and secure so even the roughest of his movements don’t send him crashing face first into the side.

“But think how _relaxed_ you’ll be,” Nyx manages to say.

Ignis _laughs_ again, delirious and breathless as he rocks back into Nyx’s movements.

Nyx really had just been trying to find away to distract Ignis who had found himself uncharacteristically nervous ahead of his first tattoo. He just hadn’t expected it to work _quite_ so well.

-

“Prompto’s going to be upset with me,” Ignis says as the tattoo artist wipes down his hand ready for the simple work.

Nyx _really_ hadn’t expected him to go ahead with this part.

It’s just two lines, one along the middle finger on his left hand and another on the forefinger of his right. It’s _barely_ any ink but Nyx would have put money on Ignis going to the grave without a _drop_ of it in his skin.

And the fact that Ignis is doing it for Nyx?

Nyx wants to drag him back to the house and bend him over some other piece of furniture to say thank you. He doesn’t much care what one it is.

“You’ll have to apologise by letting him do one too,” Nyx says.

If they’d _planned_ this through at all they certainly would have gone to Prompto to have this simple work done but they just don’t have the time. Nyx isn't willing to sail to Insomnia and back again and there's _no chance_ Prompto could get out here in time.

“Maybe I will,” Ignis says, “Maybe I’ll get a taste for it.”

Nyx can’t really imagine Ignis with a plethora of tattoos but he can’t see how he genuinely wouldn’t like it of he did. Nyx can’t see how he would genuinely _not_ like anything that Ignis did.

The artist pulls the first of Ignis’ hands towards him and warns, “This will hurt a _bit_ , but it also won’t last long.”

Ignis nods and visibly tenses in anticipation which _definitely_ does not help matters.

“Breathe babe,” Nyx reminds him.

Ignis exhales and his muscles relax at once. The artist sends Nyx a grateful look.

“So I’m thinking that I’ll change my name,” Ignis says with a forced conversational tone. The tattoo gin drags across his finger and he winces, “Legally at least though I’ll probably have to stay the same at work.”

“Gavin,” Nyx says, “Marcus? Oh I know, _Eugene_.”

Ignis stares at him flatly and with a sigh turns to the artists, “I don’t suppose _you’re_ available to marry tomorrow are you?”

They laugh, hard enough they have to pull their hands away from their work for a moment.

“Different family markings, I’m afraid,” they half laugh, “But I’m flattered.”

When the pen is reapplied to Ignis’ skin Nyx asks, “Ignis Ulric, huh?”

“Has a nice ring to it _I_ think,” Ignis says, “Do you like it?”

“I _love_ it,” Nyx promises.

Nyx thinks its the greatest thing he’s ever heard.

\- - -

No one else is getting married but the village rallies together for a traditional celebration anyway.

Ignis doesn’t want a fuss made but he allows Nyx’s closest neighbours to make food so everyone can eat and celebrate in their honour. Nyx and Ignis aren’t expected at that part _anyway_ , it’s simply a way for the people to celebrate another person joining their community.

They step out together at the first light of the moon, a village elder long since gone to the waters edge to bless the place they’ll be _married_. It happens to be the woman that had poured river water across Nyx's ankles and wrists when he was a small babe, imparting the waters into his heart to safe guard him from the perils of the world.

She’d been _old_ then and she’s positively _ancient_ now, her skin darkened by decades upon decades of Galahdian summers and the creases in her skin so deep that Nyx can’t even begin to imagine what she would have looked like in her youth.

The ceremony itself if utterly private, tradition meaning that only those of bonded family can attend. It’s less prickly than it sounds and were their jumbled mess of a found family _here_ they’d certainly be welcome to attend but as they’re _not_ Ignis and Nyx approach the bank of the river alone. They’re further in land than where Nyx had chosen to play as a child, pushing closer to the source to find some place where they can stand waist deep.

Traditionally they would strip bare, but its not always practised now, the onslaught of shame advancing with every year that passes. But to Nyx's surprise - and quiet joy - when the elder beckons them forward with a strip of Nyx’s family silk in her hands Ignis steps out of not just just jeans but his underwear too, shirt folded carefully on top.

He’s pink in the cheeks but his eyes are intense and certain. Nyx pauses long enough to kiss each of his fingertips, a silent and fervent promise to love him forever, before silently leading him into the water.

“You’re one step ahead of me,” she teases in her croaky voice and gestures at their joined hands.

Ignis smiles, gripping him tighter and Nyx offers him a wink just to see that smile turn wry, even a little exasperated.

“Are you ready?” the elder asks.

“Born ready,” Nyx says.

“Desperately so,” Ignis breathes.

She lowers the silk into the water, holding it down until its soaked through. When it’s ready she lifts it free and begins to wind it over their joined hands, speaking words that Nyx mostly does not understand.

Ignis blinks as she utters the ancient word for _devotion_ and it echoes in Nyx’s chest, imprinted forever with the image of the tear rolling down his husband’s cheek.

-

Ignis is convinced into the village celebration after all. His hair is damp from being submerged in the river water, bathing them in preparation for their new journey together, and his linen shirt sticks to his damp chest.

A young girl races at them as they appear, two flower garlands of yellow and white Galahdian daisies in her hands and without even discussing it they kneel in synchronisation for her to nestle them amongst the wet strands of their hair.

And after that it’s all too easy to be drawn in by the music and the smell of the food. They stand with Nyx’s neighbours eating spicy chunks of garula off sticks and feeding each other nibbles of bread cooked over an open fire.

Eventually they slink off to the house though, but Ignis insists on leaving the windows wide open as they lay down together, wanting to hear the echo of the party still going on.

In his mind Nyx had grand plans for how he would take Ignis apart on their wedding night, spread him apart and pull pleasure from him in every conceivable way until he’s shaking against their bed. But instead Nyx feels _soft_ \- metaphorically so - and he thinks he’d be content just to lie next to Ignis, skin on skin with their breath mingling from how close they’re laying and nothing more.

But Ignis angles their hips together and licks across his own palm to take them both in hand where they’re nestled together. Nyx gets hard easily as Ignis stirs to life right alongside him and Nyx adds to their pleasure with the roughness of his jaw at Ignis’ neck, rubbing and biting a mark into Ignis’ skin as he rolls his hips into Ignis’ grip around them.

It’s a quiet pleasure, unexpected after the gravity of their day but Ignis comes with Nyx’s name on his tongue and Nyx follows just after, his noises a garbled nonsensical mess of all the things he loves about Ignis trying to escape him at once.

\- - -

Nyx wakes alone but Ignis isn’t _far_ away, sat on the kitchen counter in a rare show of informality and staring out at the town around them.

He must hear Nyx stir because without turning to look at him Ignis puts his coffee down on the table and calls, “Will you miss it?”

Nyx thinks on it for a moment as he climbs from the bed, retrieving some fresh underwear to pull on as he pads over to the window and join his _husband_.

“I think so,” Nyx says, “More than I did before at least.”

“It seems a shame for the house to remain empty all the time,” Ignis murmurs. He flexes his hands, eyes staring at the tattoos that match Nyx’s so perfectly and his wedding band shining in the morning light.

“Maybe I can visit more - _we_ could visit more?” Nyx broaches carefully.

“I think it would be a nice anniversary trip each year,” Ignis responds.

He turns with a hopeful expression, like he half expects Nyx to say _no_.

“You mean it?” Nyx asks, “Really?”

“Really,” Ignis says, “I think - I think we can have _two_ homes just as well as one.”

“I love you,” Nyx says earnestly, “Ignis -”

Ignis’ sweet _hmm_ distracts him.

“I seem to have not been kissed by my husband yet today,” Ignis says, “That seems terribly remiss of him.”

Nyx kisses him alright, lifting him clean off the counter and carrying back to their bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Will you ever learn when Nyx did even before the assassination attempt to be known as Hero in this universe? Yes. Will it be in this slice of the story? I’m afraid not.


End file.
